The news burst out tonight that the two Missouri boys had been found, even the one missing for four years! It is wonderful; my thoughts wandered many times to him and the sad mystery and his suffering parents. Now, he's found, along with the other innocent child who was snatched. Thank God!

There's been tiptiptapping all day on the skylights as the "wintery mix" descends, presses. Unfortunately, a bag of tulip bulbs went unplanted, I see, and now the ground is frozen again.

Life has been quite musical lately for me. Every Wednesday night (and some Friday nights), I pack my notebook of songs and mandolin and travel within a two mile radius (it seems that my area of town is an epi-center for bluegrass musicians unbeknownst to me before!) to an unknown man's house where I gather in the circle of unknown men. And, we uncase together, and take our turns to choose a song and perform a break if we're daring, or good enough. I'm not good enough, but I am daring and try fumbling along in a solo from time to time during the session.

The dynamics are quite rewarding within the group. I'm conditioned by women's groups where we link, connect, introduce, and reveal. Here, I just sit mostly silently within the men who quip their occassional one-liners, but are basically there to be submerged in the unity of the melody. No introductions are ever garnered. It's both aloof and all-inclusive.

Wednesday, I sat by an attentive man who let me try out his mandolin. He murmured encouragement after my song choices and breaks. It was nice but unnecessary. The week before, I sat by a clawhammer banjoist who must not believe in drycleaning frequently. My. I missed the women then.

On Thursday nights, I go to my women's group down town in a rougher part, where the women are transparent about rough lives which God has led them from: prostitution drugs gangs pregnancy divorce addictions caring for children. We cry and hold hands standing afterwards for prayer; even if we're strangers, we hug goodbye. The Lord is thick within, making everyone intimate and trusting.

Then during the days, we school. Cody grows grows grows! He is very interested in a woman being the president of the United States one day. He's very interested in Hiroshima. We're having a Knight's festival at our home next Friday, if this tiptiptapping will ever stop.

The daughter slides around, learning, growing, somehow she'll be okay. The husband tries to figure out a huge career decision which would cause us to move or stay.

Tiptiptapping, tiptiptapping, tiptiptapping, always motion, always sound; life mixes and descends to coat us in newness, experience